Things Aren't What They Seem
by AnnaRinzler
Summary: SladexArella short oneshots. Post Birthmark series.
1. Chapter 1

**"Things Aren't What They Seem" **

_Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans._

She curled up on the sofa, idly flipping through a magazine with unseeing eyes. Every now and then she chanced a glance at the stark black clock hung on the opposite wall, which mocked her with every tick.

"You're just being paranoid," she muttered to herself, "He's probably just forgotten to call, or...not die." In a spark of exasperation she threw the magazine on the coffee table. It skidded to a stop next to the paper.

Narrowing angry eyes, the woman flipped over the newspaper so that the want ads were face-up instead of the front page. She didn't really want to see it anymore. With pale, shaking fingers, she picked up a cup of tea, tightening her hand around the hot ceramic and blowing gently on the top.

She sighed and took a sip: Chamomile. Her favorite. _And he knew it,_ she thought sadly, trying to calm her pounding heart. He was probably just...doing...something...

Illegal, whatever it was. Sighing, the woman flicked back a strand of shoulder-length hair and wished that he would _call _home every once in awhile. Was that so much to ask? She had forgiven him for being a mercenary and a killer, so calling her was the least he could do!

Suddenly she sat up straight on the sofa. Was that...yes! He was unlocking the door. She twisted the platinum band on her left ring finger tighter and waited for him to come into the living room-

"Slade!" She yelled, leaping at him and throwing her arms around his neck, "My god you're alive," she sobbed as he hugged her, "Don't you ever do that to me again! What with all this business about the Titans and everyone being captured"-

He shut her up with a kiss and she squirmed away from him, even with the heady rush of endorphins clouding her brain. "Slade," she squeaked. "You worry too much, my dear," he replied carelessly, pulling her back to him.

Slade broke the kiss himself when she reached up and slapped him. "Stop doing that," she snapped, swiping a hand over her mouth. He narrowed his eye. "Stop doing what?" Slade asked innocently, walking toward her and forcing her to back against the wall.

He leaned on both arms, trapping her between him and the wall. "Stop kissing my wife?" Slade asked innocently, managing a cheap shot by nipping her earlobe. Her eyes widened with what he whispered in her ear.

"Slade!" She gasped, her face turning red while she hit him in the chest. He laughed at the weak blow. "I thought you were happy to see me," he murmured, stroking her cheek with one hand.

"We-we need to talk," she stammered when he kissed her neck. "I am talking," Slade replied lazily. He moved his mouth against her ear. "So why don't you just be quiet and listen?"

Her legs turned to jelly when he blew hot air into her ear. "What about Jericho?" She asked finally. He let her go in a hurry. "He's fine," Slade said sharply. "Yes he is, Slade, but what about everyone else? They were all being captured, or killed, and you never even said you were leaving! I thought you were dead in some hole somewhere! What was I supposed to do? Sit here and worry? Slade, we can't keep going on like this!"

"You know why I do what I do," he snapped, "And you said"-"I said I'd give you a chance to change!" She cried, her eyes welling up with tears. Slade started and watched them run down her cheeks.

"This is who I am," Slade continued finally, and she shook her head, wiping her tears away with shaking hands.

"Why can't you just accept that?" She glared at him. "Because it's dangerous, and I don't want to lose the only man I've ever loved, that's why!" He sighed. "Please, Addie, I-"

She reached up and slapped him as hard as she could. Slade looked at her in horror and raised a hand to his reddening cheek. Time came to a screeching halt.

"MY NAME IS _ARELLA_!" She screamed angrily, sprinting out of the living room with tears still falling.

**Author's Note: Okay, guys. I posted this just because I felt like it on the Slade Wilson Shrine (Join it) PLEEEEASE REVIEW! I'll send you a cookie. : ) I was thinking I might do an entire long-ish story with these two people-they certainly seem like the most likely pairing. Tell me what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans_

Running blind, Arella chanced a glance at her Rolex: 10:56 a.m. It was going to be a very long day. After pacing back and forth in the dim library, she jumped on one of the leather chairs and stared blankly into the vacant fireplace.

"Stupid _mercenary_," she sniffed, swiping a hand over her eyes.

_"Please, Addie...please, Addie...Addie...Addie..."_

"God," Arella moaned, burying her face in her hands and trying to muffle her sobs, "Stupid man...probably doesn't even love me after all. His precious Addie"-

She cut off and bit her quivering lower lip. From what she knew...that poor woman was the best thing in the world for Slade, and she just--wasn't. At this Arella began to feel more miserable with each passing minute.

Suddenly she glanced at her watch and it was 11:49a.m. "I can't go in there," she muttered, "What have I gotten myself into?"

Arella knew Slade very, very well. He was the type of person who couldn't admit when he was wrong, and wouldn't apologize, and it wasn't very nice to be around the 6'5" man when he was angry.

It was a long day, as she predicted. Arella ate at odd hours, not wanting to come across Slade. And it wasn't hard, in the large house. They avoided each other like the plague and she didn't even see him at all the entire day.

Of course it wasn't very nice, standing up and gulping down a sandwich at 3:00p.m. while staring out the window in the kitchen.

_Clink._

_"Oh dear god,"_ Arella thought without turning. Unfortunately for her, Slade was casually opening the refrigerator, which happened to be directly to her right. Neither of them said anything and she stood just a bit straigher and nonchalantly folded her arms.

Slade literally slammed the fridge door and out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn sharply on his heel, swiping a hand through his white hair as he stomped out of the room.

"Errr..." she muttered, "You bastard."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Certain Issues

_Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans_

"Whoa."

Arella glared at him and he planted a kiss on her forehead before she rolled him off of her. Slade put his arms behind his head and stretched out on his side of the bed, pulling a bit of the sheet loosely around his waist while staring up at the ceiling.

"I do love it when you're furious," he sighed, twirling a bit of her hair around his finger when she leaned over him.

"Last time I checked, you were pretty furious yourself," Arella replied. She smoothed her hand along his cheek, stopping just short of brushing a finger along the edge of his eye patch.

"I am," Slade said matter-of-factly, "What color are your eyes?"

"My eyes."

"Yes," he says, raising his eyebrows, "Do I stutter?"

"No," she grumbled, shaking off the hand that was about to touch the side of her face, "I don't know what color my eyes are, Slade."

"Hm," he muttered, catching Arella's chin in an iron grip, "I think they must be purple, though it's rather…"

"Weird."

"I was going to say exquisite," Slade replied mildly, craning his neck up to lightly kiss her before falling back down.

"You're just trying to get on my good side," she sighed; a small part of her hoping that was the case.

"Not really. I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me?"

Slade sat up and slid an arm around Arella's waist, lifting her small frame up with no effort at all.

"Slade! Put me down!"

"Very well."

He dropped her and she landed in a heap among the sheets, glaring at him as he got up and walked into the bathroom.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in here?" Slade called over the noise of the shower water running.

"Haven't you had enough?"

"You say that like its possible!"

She rolled her eyes and floundered around, groping on the bedside table for the remote to the flat-screen on the wall. Slade was probably still angry and this period of calm might wear off just as soon as his sexual high did. Arella tried not to think of this as she flipped on the television.

Of course, it was nice to be wanted every now and again…

The former priestess smiled as she bypassed the Home Shopping network, remembering the day she and Slade realized they had more in common than they thought…

"_Why don't we try actually watching television for once," she said sleepily, snuggling closer to his chest and curling her legs up on the couch._

"_Are you serious?"_

"_Why not, Slade?"_

_He fell silent and continued to run his fingers through her hair._

"_I do not want to watch QVC, the Home Shopping Network, or anything of the like."_

"_But I hate all of those channels."_

_Silence._

"_I love you, darling."_

She shook herself and flipped back to the news. Immediately Arella's stomach dropped like a lead balloon when she read the words _Titans Save Tour Bus _flashing across the screen. To her dismay the picture zoomed in on the five kids, and a fire in the background that was rapidly being put out by four workers in yellow suits.

-"Couldn't have been more than a horrible accident," Robin finished, "But since Raven was able to lift up the bus, we didn't have any fatalities."

Cut to a shot of a sheepish Raven, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. There's a bit of axle grease on her forehead and she shrugs modestly.

Arella silently lets the remote slip from her fingers onto the floor and stares at the screen, tears filling her eyes as she thinks, thinks, always thinking. There's a sound to her right but she doesn't even notice it as her daughter's face blurs with the tears that are still falling.

"Arella? What's wrong?"

She doesn't even look at Slade but presses his ring tighter into her finger, where it brands her like an iron.

"Why won't you let me see Raven?" She says finally, her voice coming out small and strangled as she curls the sheet around herself.

Arella continues to stare at the screen even after he turns the television off and sits next to her, steam still rolling off of him from the shower.

"S-Slade? Why won't"—

"We talked about this, Arella. It's best if you don't see her or have any contact with her. At all."

She fell silent and suddenly there was a huge need to take off his ring before it got any hotter and maybe burnt into her skin—_I own you. _But Arella contented herself with turning around and letting Slade fold his arms around her, and kiss her cheek before resting his head against hers.

"Of course, Slade," she murmured finally,

**Author's Note: Well? How bad was it? Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Sweet Dreams

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans**_

"_You cannot escape your destiny…what you have done will fulfill prophecy forever."_

"_I don't want to! You're"—_

"_Foolish woman! I am Trigon the Terrible!"_

"Don't touch me!" Arella screamed, flailing around in the darkness and gasping as a muscular arm wrapped itself around her bare waist. "Get _away _from me! Let go!" A heady rush of adrenaline threatened to overwhelm her as she finally collapsed, huddling on her edge of the bed and curling the sheet around her.

"Arella," Slade said groggily, "What"—She shuddered at his hand on her shoulder. "Don't touch me!" She cried as her breathing became erratic, "Don't—just leave me alone…stop…" The exhausted woman trailed off and gave a sob as reality set in and the nightmare faded to the background.

Silent tears continued to course their way down her cheeks as Arella's chest heaved with sobs. God, she hadn't dreamt about that n…years maybe? And it brought back everything she didn't want to think about, which threatened to break the solid mental dam she had worked so hard to construct.

"Arella? What's wrong? It's four a.m." _My husband…_she thought to herself as she shied away from the nightmare. "Would you just…leave me alone for awhile?" Arella asked, her frail voice cracking and shattering into a million pathetic pieces. She felt him hesitate; felt the current of air where he almost laid a hand on her shoulder but changed his mind.

"Whatever you say," Slade murmured, offering a light kiss against her temple in place of holding her in his arms. Arella stiffened at even this gentle gesture as the cobwebs of her dream refused to be brushed away from her mind. They clung to the fact that she _had _known someone before Slade, and he hurt her—badly. So when Slade touched her, at least for the moment, it was like _he _was touching her. The thought made her want to throw up.

She closed her eyes as Slade clicked on his bedside lamp and bathed the room in a faint glow. The bedsprings creaked a bit as he got up, gently folding the sheet around Arella while she continued to cry.

"I'll be better in the morning, darling," she mumbled to his back as he opened the door. He didn't answer to her forced term of endearment and she shut her eyes, latching her thin arms around the pillow like it was a life preserver. Arella really couldn't say how long her face was buried in the pillow, or when she pushed a few strands of messy black hair away from her face, but she was still awake when the door opened without a sound.

Her sob became audible then and Slade knelt by the bed, capturing her cheek gently with one hand. He looked at her in a serious way and leaned forward to meet Arella's mouth with his.

Slade held the kiss for a long time as he stroked her cheek with his thumb, forcing her to be torn between misery and a cloudy perfume of endorphins. Pulling away first, he trailed his fingers through her hair—eliciting more tears from Arella. Slade sighed and stood up, presumably to walk around to his side of the bed.

Arella watched with interest as Slade wordlessly set a small tray on her bedside table, which bore only one steaming cup of Chamomile tea—and a single red rose.

"Pleasant dreams, my paramour," he whispered, leaning close and kissing her forehead before rolling over to go back to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans**

Arella woke up slowly, gradually, with the pale morning sunlight finally teasing her eyelids open. She struggled to her elbows, glancing back at the bedside table with the barest hint of a smile on her face as she saw the empty teacup with the rose nestled beside it.

The former priestess knew without turning over that Slade was already up, as he was on most mornings. Glancing at the clock assured her that he was: After all, it was already six a.m. and he was a _very _early riser. Of course there were some mornings when he waited for Arella to wake up, or woke her up himself…

She shivered pleasantly at the thought and pulled the sheet around her, glancing tiredly around the room for her clothes, which Slade had tossed across the room—again. Tentatively setting her feet on the cold wooden floor, Arella hurriedly snatched up a purple camisole and black shorts, sliding them on and watching the door the entire time.

_"How old did you say"—_

_"You should never ask a woman her age, Slade," she replied, wrapping her arm around his neck as he buried his face in her hair._

_"You don't look a day over twenty-five," he murmured, while smoothing a hand down the silky skin of her arm, "It only makes sense that you dress like it sometimes."_

_She laughed self-consciously._

_"You mean my supply of Soffee shorts and tank tops? I wasn't really planning on wearing them much longer, but they're so comfortable"—_

_"No," he said quickly, "I like it when you wear those."_

_"Of course you do—they show too much skin."_

_"Like I said. I like it when you wear those."_

Peering down the hallway, Arella shivered and shuffled sleepily to the thermostat, giving a mental groan when she did—it was a frigid 50 degrees inside—during the middle of winter. Slade was so hot natured that she would swear he had hit menopause before she did.

She walked into the kitchen to find Slade standing up in white boxers and not shirt, just barely picking up a cup of coffee. Arella hovered shyly in the doorway, not sure what exactly she was waiting for. Somehow she always managed to feel like she needed his permission to do something, or that she was somehow inferior to Slade—even when he had messy hair and morning breath.

"Arella," Slade said curtly without turning away from the stove. She jumped.

"I just wanted to thank you for"—

"It's nothing really"—

"I'm sorry about waking you last ni"—

"I understand and"—

"Thank y"—

"You're welcome."

They lapsed into what Arella felt like was an 'awkward silence' and she slowly came closer to Slade, who kept staring out the kitchen window over the city. He wasn't really the sweet type. Slade was more the 'murdering' type—although she mentally slapped herself for thinking that way—and he probably didn't want to talk about his small act of kindness any more than she wanted to talk about her nightmare.

"Coffee?" He asked finally, tilting his cup up.

She shook her head and remembered he couldn't see her.

"No, of course not," Slade chided himself, stepping away to reveal an already steaming teapot.

Arella took this as her cue and walked over to the cabinet, standing on her toes to reach a small teacup. This done, she slowly poured out a bit of the heavenly brew and blew gently on the top, taking a small sip and giving Slade a slight smile.

"I know you," he said with satisfaction and a bit of arrogance, watching Arella's face as she tasted more Chamomile tea made just the way she wanted it.

"Of course you do," she murmured, forgetting the chill and drinking more of the tea as it began to warm her up.

The pair fell into a more comfortable silence and stood at the window together, watching the sun glint off steel skyscrapers in the distance, and tiny yellow specks of taxis that looked like ants. The former priestess admired the shine on her diamond wedding ring.

But wasn't she lucky to have him, Arella mused, someone to take care of her, and who probably understood all she had gone through, even if they didn't talk about it. And he certainly wasn't boring; in fact she knew he was more intelligent than she. That didn't really bother her though. It made her just a bit…_proud_ to have someone like Slade watching out for her.

"You're a good man, Slade Wilson," Arella whispered, hugging him around the waist and kissing his cheek before he had a chance to disagree.

**Author's Note: Well, tell me if you liked it! Come on, people, I have like two hundred hits on this thing and like fifteen comments. I'll have the next chapter up soon.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six** Slade POV

_Disclaimer: I don't own TT.  
_  
Slade Wilson liked to have the upper hand. He liked to sneak up behind her, very quietly, and slowly wrap his arms around the smallest waist in the world as she melted to putty under his touch. He enjoyed it-a lot.

Of course, he wouldn't admit that having her so close electrified him, that his skin practically tingled whenever she hugged him like she was now. And "I love you," she whispered, testing him again, to see if he would say it this time even though they both knew he wouldn't. He hadn't, really, only twice, and those times Slade couldn't really help it-the words just came.

In some ways he was afraid of them, but he wasn't afraid of anything, he reassured himself. So it wasn't fear, fear that he might finally love something besides himself-but he didn't love himself, he thought coolly. Slade didn't love anything.

Even though she made him feel like he was a human and not just a killing machine. Even though she didn't care that he was arrogant, and self-centered, and would coldly brush her off on days he just wanted to be _alone_. Even though it made him feel good just to be around her, and she made him gruffly over-protective.

"What's wrong?" She whispered, stroking his cheek with one hand as she leaned closer.

"Nothing," Slade murmured down to her, shoving a pair of accusing green eyes out of his mind to focus on kissing his wife.

**Author's Note: I think I'm going to do "The Slarella Files" and this'll be a one-shot in them…it's kind of short.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

"SLADE! Could you turn the music _down_!" Arella screamed, throwing down the plate she was washing to walk in the living room and find her husband staring moodily at the stereo with his arms crossed. The speakers were up so loud you could see them pulsing in rhthym with the music. He simply glared at her.

"Forget it Arella!"

_'Cause your bitchin' and your yellin' don't mean anything...'_

"Slade, damn it!" She said, stomping her foot on the ground. He looked shocked.

_'I can handle all the baggage that you're carrying.'_

"Y-you swore!" He gasped, his jaw dropping like a child who caught his mother flipping off a neighbor.

"That's not the point!" She cried angrily, her voice barely audible over the music. Tears of frustration came to her eyes. "Slade, I'm so...I can't really-you're HORRIBLE, you know that?"

He glared at her. "Fine, Arella, if I'm so horrible," Slade said, yanking the black knob to a higher volume and advancing on the petite woman with a crazy gleam in his eye.

"Wh-what?"

_'You wear me out...'_

-As he grabbed her wrists and pulled her close.

_'But it's alright now...Let's"_

...Slamming Arella down on the coffee table, of all places-

_'Go home, and get stoned, we could end up making love instead of misery'_

"Slade sto--mmph," Arella snarled, kissing him back, and she was so very angry when Slade held her arms above her head so she couldn't escape, and the air conditioning was suddenly very cold, except _his _skin was burning up pressed against hers-

_'Go home, and get stoned'-_  
"SLADE!"

_'Cause the sex is so much better when you're mad at me!'_


	8. Author's Note

This is not another chapter—I just wanted to say that I'll be taking time off from this one to do my series of rapid-fire one shots, The Slarella Years. They'll be short & posted one after the other—so please review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 (Part One)**

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Teen Titans._

She huddled in the corner, crying, sobbing really, her eyes hot and puffy and tears dripping in untidy rivulets down her face. Arella Wilson slowly rocked back and forth, wishing she had on her white robe so she could just flip the hood up and her face wouldn't be seen.

"Go away, Slade! Just leave me alone!" She cried, dashing out from behind the bookcase and running to the spare bathroom, closing the white door and clicking the lock into place.

Arella sank to the floor and her skin prickled upon contact with cold marble. She shook convulsively and laid her head on two bony knees.

"Leave me alone," the former priestess moaned, hearing Slade try to work the lock.

"I could break this door down, you know."

"So DO IT, then," she sniffed, "I'll just run."

"You're acting like a 12-year-old."

"And you're acting like an uncivilized barbarian, you hulking BRUTE of a man!"

"At least I'm handling this rationally!"

"You slapped me!" She screeched, shooting up in a moment of angry defiance and staring at the door, "You slapped me, and I don't feel like dealing with it anymore."

"Well maybe I don't feel like dealing with _you _anymore."

She fell silent as he stomped away, knowing that not a lot could fix this one.

**Author's Note: I'm back off hiatus! Reviews would be appreciated-that's how I know people read these things, you realize.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: Part Two**

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  
_  
_  
'Of course she couldn't stay away for long,'_ Slade thought with a hint of smugness, as Arella curled up next to him and he wrapped an arm around her slender waist.

"Mm," she said groggily, her breath hot against his ear.

"Done crying?" Slade asked in what barely passed for a concerned voice.

"I don't want to ever fight with you again," she replied, lacing a hand through his hair.

"Most don't."

"I know, Slade. But could you"-

"Arella, it's too early to talk about things like that."

"Oh, Slade. Were you up all night again?"

"No"-

"You were, weren't you? Poor man. I'm sorry," she murmured, stroking his arm and moving her leg down his.

"Yes, and it really took it out of me, Arella."

She breathed into his ear, on purpose this time, and he rolled over until he was facing Arella.

"Do you want anything?" She asked sleepily, her violet eyes still a bit clouded from sleep, "I could give you a massage, breakfast..."

"No, that's fine," he replied, marveling at how she always smelled faintly of her perfume.

"Good."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, supposing that's what a woman would deem 'sweet.'

So to Slade's infinite surprise she pulled him down and met his lips with hers, with a small amount of agression. He couldn't help kissing her harder than she kissed him-HE had to be the dominating one. Soon Arella was kissing his cheek and had moved onto nipping his ear.

Slade didn't really know where Arella picked up what she said next, but he knew it involved the words "do me" and "now" so he was more than happy to oblige.

_'Maybe I was wrong,'_ Slade mused, _'Maybe everything can be fixed with sex...'_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven: **

_Disclaimer: Don't own the Titans._

_Spineless, weak-willed little thing._

Wrinkling his nose in mild disgust, Slade Wilson stood by the bed and looked down at Arella with the haughty air only attained through sheer knowledge of superiority.

She shifted a minute amount in her sleep and burrowed her face farther against-what else-his favorite pillow. _Why_ did she always take that one when she went to bed first? Of course if he tried now to extract it from her slender arms she would inadvertently wake and further display his guilt, in the form of her salty tear-tracks, to the light. And of course he was _never _ready to go to bed when she was, so Arella had first claim on everything. The woman went to bed at eleven, for Christ's sake! Slade couldn't properly fall asleep until at least two.

So why was he tiptoeing around a person who would only say she was "worried about him" instead of launching into the verbal tongue-lashing he so deserved for staying in Africa an extra week? Slade, in all the sagacity attained from years of torturing civilians, didn't know.

At times he even wondered why he let her stay there in the first place. She was a soft-spoked, demure little creature, content to stand in the shadows and agree with him on quite a number of things, never voicing her opinion and oftentimes not having one _to _voice.

Slade pondered all these things as he went to his side of the bed, easing a shirt off his muscular torso and tossing it to land soundlessly on the hardwood floor. Wincing, he froze as Arella sighed and shifted, her glossy black hair winking in the light as she did so. But the former priestess didn't wake up and Slade breathed a sigh of relief-though he wondered what the worry was.

Arella would only smile sadly when he returned late with no fair warning, or shudder a bit and turn away when Slade had to bring weapons in the house. She never raised her voice and he had only seen her get angry once-before dissolving into a puddle of tears as he found his way out with bad excuses and good sex.

_Yes,_ he thought, sitting down to watch her sleep, she _was _a rather uninspiring picture, and some days the blatant lack of fight in her got annoying, even to him.

Although...

Slade did love to have his ego stroked. So he 'tolerated' all the times Arella was caught glancing at his profile in admiration, or asking him what _exactly_ he wanted her to do, in that innocent voice of hers, and the days she would sigh and shake her head at how intelligent Slade was.

And then there were the darker times. Slade let his mind sift through these as he reached out a hand to stroke her ebony hair, lightly, so Arella wouldn't wake up.

He knew he shouldn't get gratification out of them; no humane person should. But somehow Slade found a morbid sense of victory when Arella would shrink from the hand poised to hit her (though he never did) as her eyes flashed violently, startled. Or when they would be pressed full-length against the bed, preferably the shower, she would beg him to stop and he _wouldn't_, just to prove how strong he was.

"Mm...Slade? Is that you? You're back?"

Jumping slightly at the noise, the mercenary retracted his hand from her hair and watched Arella wake up, her violet eyes blinking sleepily in the dim light he turned on.

"Yes," he sighed, stretching out beside her, making sure they weren't touching.

"I'm...I'm glad, Slade," Arella murmured, her speech heavy with tiredness as she shifted around to face him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in a small voice, scooting closer.

"Hm," he grunted, wrappign an arm around her waist as she tucked her head under his chin.

"What were you thinking about, Slade?"

"Taxes, darling. Taxes. Now go to sleep."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

_Don't own Teen Titans._

Arella lay awake long after Slade did.

She didn't usually, because it was so _nice _when he stayed with her, and she felt so protected that Arella usually fell asleep instantly and stayed that way, curled up in Slade's arms.

But tonight she was the one holding _him_.

Breathing out a sigh, Arella ran her fingers through Slade's hair as he slept, something the mercenary rarely allowed when he was awake. She smiled and separated the white strands with her fingers while listening to him breathe in the dim silence. 

Slade was so..._tranquil _when he slept. She smoothed a hand over his face and bit her lip at the slight scar along his left cheek, and the black patch where his right eye should be.

"Poor man," Arella murmured, kissing his cheek and realizing it was pathetic for her to think something like that about a person like him. He wasn't weak at all.

Well...

_She stood there helplessly, the fire tossing orange strands behind him as she squinted in the dim light and fiddled with her hands, which were slick with nervous sweat._

"I..." she began, but trailed off when he stared down at her, and somehow they seemed closer together than before.

"You," he muttered, tilting his chin down as she tilted hers up.

Neither knew who started it but somehow he was kissing her, and she wasn't doing a damn thing to stop it-not even when his burning hot hands locked around her upper arms, as if he could draw her closer and shove her away all at the same time...

"N-never do that again," he gasped, letting go and jumping back a step to simply stare at her, though it was irrational to wish someone away with a stare...


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Don't own Teen Titans._

"Wait! Mother, please help me."

"You always had a home here, my child, but help we could not give."

"The prophecy...it's happening. Tell me how to stop it."

"There is no stopping it. The promise of your birth was absolute."

"I don't believe you! But-I'm afraid."

"You forever had the love of your people, Raven, even knowing what you would become."

"But"-

"It is too late for Earth, just as it was too late for Azarath."

She missed the last words of the blue-robed teenager as an invisible hand yanked her through the dimensional barrier. She squirmed for a moment, her eyes closed as the hand tightened on the collar of her robe.

"Terrific little speech back there. You really drove the point home."

Yanking away from him only seemed to make the hand angrier and the priestess gagged and choked as her feet kicked empty air. Her thin elbow went into the figure's side and it dropped her to the cold cavern ground, where she stood coughing and rubbing her throat.

"Go-go to hell," she croaked finally, the words sounding too light and frail for their meaning.

She was thrown to the ground and her hands scraped first, then warm blood started coming from her forehead as an offending rock hit it. Scrambling away from his boot, she turned over and stared up at him, her head throbbing and her eyes sparkling with apprehension.

His ice-blue eye stared coldly at the blood trickling down her face before he turned away.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans_

"It's not true. It just can't be. That's all."

Raven stared at her mother with nothing less than repulsion on her face, slowly drawing away and darting her eyes around as if an excuse for Arella would be written in the air.

"Raven," she stammered, "It's t"-

"He forced you, didn't he?" She asked in a low voice, darting forward and grabbing Arella's arm with her pale, bony hand, "Tell me he forced you. He's forcing you to be with him. He's making you sleep with him. Rape. We could call this rape, you know," Arella's daughter continued, her voice rising with every word.

"Raven, stop. It's true, and you know it."

"What is..._that_?" Raven asked in disgust, ignoring Arella and staring down at her ring, which would provide clarity to her.

"Read it, daughter," Arella said quietly, blinking up at the dying sun before glancing back at Raven's partially shadowed face.

"What! It has his _name _in it. It has..._your _name in it," she growled to the silver band, clutching it her fist a moment as if to shatter the offensive object.

"I'm sorry, Raven."

"No! Where is he? I'll kill him."

Raven spun around in a circle, her hood falling off and her cape spinning out behind her.

"Please don't try," Arella choked, the back of her eyes smarting with tears, "I want to be with him. I want to stay with him. I belong with Slade."

"How can you say that?" Raven asked flatly, her eyelids half-closed with sudden dullness, "After all he did, to me, to my friends, all the people that he killed? He's insane."

"No, he's not. And I love him."

"Are you-serious?"

Arella nodded slowly as Raven deflated and handed the ring back.

"Very. Raven, we're married now. He saved me, I fell in love with him, and he married me."

"I have to go," she said abruptly, "My communicator's going off. I'll find you later, mother."

"Raven, we really should"-

"No. I can't...handle this. Unless you'd want to come back to the Tower, so the Titans..."

"Raven, your friends saved the world. They're great heroes, and I would trust them with my life. But Slade? No. Not after Slade. The Titans would not be so forgiving of my cardinal sin."

She watched Raven's shoulders slump as the blue-robed teenager took flight, and for a moment Arella was afraid her daughter wouldn't say anything else.

"Hate the sin," Raven called back, tossing Arella a yellow communicator, which she caught.

"Love the sinner," Slade murmured from the shadows, taking the device from his weeping lover.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans_

**Part Two**

"Arella, stop," Slade soothed, wrapping an arm around shoulders that were trembling violently.

He slid the Titan's communicator into a pocket of the long, nondescript tan coat-_how original, _Slade thought to himself.

"Slade," Arella cried, throwing her arms around him in the middle of the brick sidewalk and burying her face in his shirt.

Any observant passerby would have seen a tall, uncomfortable-looking man awkwardly patting the shoulder of the inconsolable Arella, who continued to shake and cry quietly and in general make a fuss.

"Sh, darling," Slade tried, using a pet name in hopes he could charm her out of it, "We'll get this whole thing straightened out."

"I'm s-sorry for crying," she whispered as he rubbed her back.

Any other husband would have felt slightly guilty, considering the fact that his wife was apologizing for being upset. But it was a nice deviation in her mannerism since she walked around the house all the time with a steady, calm demeanor.

He found himself wishing this deviation would have occurred at _home _and not in public.

"Come on," Slade mumbled, taking her arm and sweeping Arella off the walkway and into a coffee store.

The inconsolable woman became slightly less so as she blinked and looked around, while Slade drug her off to a table with two chairs.

"Sit," he instructed abruptly, inhaling the heady aroma of good espresso and taking a seat himself.

Arella's nose was red from crying, but other than that she looked the same as always and Slade leaned in close to her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, sliding her hands into his on top of the table, "Raven was"-

"Leave it alone for now. You want anything? It's cold outside."

Arella gave him a watery smile and nodded, drawing away and signaling that she was pulling herself together again.

"What can I get for you?" A perky blonde asked, her ballpoint pen poised over a white tablet.

"Two grande lattes, extra cream in one."

"That'll be $8.95, and they'll be right out."

"Keep the change," Slade said, tossing her fifteen dollars and glancing away.

"That was nice of you," Arella said softly.

He made a noncommital noise and stared out the window at the various passersby strolling down the street, shopping bags in hand.

"Just trying to atone for my many sins," Slade replied as the communicator shifted in his pocket.

The waitress came back quickly, efficiently handing out their drinks and bustling off to the next table.

"You know what I like."

Slade shrugged with false modesty and took her left hand, bringing it close and kissing Arella's wedding ring.

_"Slade,"_ she murmured, blushing as he leaned closer and smoothed a hand along her profile.

"Do you really expect me to admire you from afar all the time?"

"Why do you usually know exactly what to say?" His pretty wife asked, searching his features for any answer.

"Because," Slade responded matter-of-factly, kissing her forehead, "I _always _win...in the end."

Arella probably thought he said the last bit too loud, but it was the perfect volume to be overheard by the pale teenager standing across from Slade, staring at him with hate-filled eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans._

Arella fidgeted and glanced warily to her right. A dark string of trees lined the walkway, marking the entrance to a park that no one went into after dusk fell and edged with a plain brick walkway.

A few yards away the Titans clustered together in one small super-powered group. They looked happy. At least, Arella thought they were happy. Her daughter stood on the outskirt of the crowd, if that was possible for only five people, with her hood up.

Clenching the communicator in her fist, Arella willed Raven to glance over at her. At the same time, she wanted to leave and never look back. The yellow and black disc glared at her accusingly. _"You shouldn't have taken me," _it seemed to say, _"Your husband trusts you...you shouldn't have taken me out of that drawer."_

She bit her lip and pondered flipping the top. Filled with indecision, Arella barely noticed the descending gloom until the streetlights came on with a metallic buzz.

_"Your husband trusted you..."_

She frowned and flipped the communicator open, resolving that she HAD to do something, at least.

"Go home, Arella."

She stifled a scream as a hand clamped down on her forearm.

"S-Slade," Arella gasped, just as frightened as if she were a passing civilian.

"Go _home_, Arella," Slade repeated, the metal from his mask and body armor glinting in the light.

He released her and snatched the communicator out of her hands. Arella opened and closed her mouth but settled for running blindly along the path, knowing that Slade watched her every step.

When she walked in the door her husband was sitting comfortably in an armchair with the evening paper open in his hands. Neither of them said a word as Arella bolted ashamedly past him to their bedroom, embarassment burning high in her cheeks as she fled.

Slade clenched his fist in quiet anger and the yellow disc broke with a _snap_.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

_(((Sorry for the long absence you guys!)))_

"I have to leave," he said matter-of-factly, breezing through the kitchen and grabbing his car keys, "Don't know when I'll be back."

He watched her shoulders slump a fraction of an inch, but other than that Arella did not reply. Her shoulder bones jutted out sharply from beneath the thin black shirt she wore and Slade frowned. If he wasn't so angry with her, he would have given Arella a reminder to _eat _something.

She just stood in front of the window and blew the steam off a mug of tea, a tremor in one hand. Slade didn't say anything else. He stared at her back for a moment, then headed for the door.

"I love you, Slade," Arella said quietly, "And I'll miss you."

The first thing he thought was that she was suicidal, there was so much sadness in her words. He sighed and walked out the door, not even slamming it as he had planned to originally. Dialing his phone, Slade decided to store his anger for later—though he swore he wouldn't forget it.

"_What," _a female voice snapped viciously.

"Don't you 'what' me."

"_I will if I damn well feel like it, Slade. Now whaddaya want?"_

"I have a job for you to do. An…unconventional job."

"_What's the pay?"_

"Fifty thousand. For two weeks worth of work."

She whistled appreciatively between her teeth.

"_Damn, Slade. You're getting generous in your old age."_

"I need you to go to my apartment, and watch my wife. I think she's either suicidal, anorexic, or both."

"_WHAT? You want me to watch your WIFE FOR YOU?!"_

"Yeah," he growled angrily, "And if you know what's good for you, you'll do it."

"_But…but…SLADE!"_

"Don't you "but Slade" me, young lady, I'm your father. Now get to my damn apartment!"

He heard Rose growl low in her throat before slamming the phone down, and Slade tightened his grip on the steering wheel. What had he _done _to Arella? Rose was going to make her life miserable. She was harsh, crude, lewd, and a lot of things that Arella wasn't. Plus, she would probably torture the poor woman for kicks.

"Oh, she _deserves _it," Slade said aloud, rolling his good eye and flicking on the radio.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans._

"Coming," Arella called, walking over to the front door. She opened in warily.

"Baby sitter's here," a surly-looking teenager said, crossing her rather _muscular _arms and glaring at Arella.

"Your…_hair," _she stammered, reeling backwards.

"Is white. Yeah. Now open the door."

Arella unlatched the deadbolt in muted shock and stood back while the girl waltzed in her living room. Blue eyes scanned the entire place in silence, giving Arella a chance to scan _her. _Her snowy hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, and she was wearing a ripped white tank top, black jeans, and what appeared to be combat boots.

And she looked just like him.

"So here's the deal," the teenager began, reaching back for a duffel bag that made a loud _clang _when she tossed it on the floor, "The old man is gonna be gone for two and a half weeks, give or take. I'm your personal bodyguard."

"I'm…sorry, but I don't even know your name."

"Rose Wilson," she said, sticking out a surprisingly well-manicured hand.

Arella shook it dumbly, her heart fluttering weakly in her chest.

"Slade never mentioned me?"

"I—no. He didn't."

"Well, life is full of nasty little surprises like that, isn't it?"

"Rose, you're not—I mean…I don't know what to say."

"Lady, don't say anything. Slade was pretty stupid when he was younger, ya know," Rose said with a trace of bitterness, "Don't hold it against yourself that you married a conniving bastard."

"Don't"—

"But I can tell that he's not exactly _holding back _anything_," _she continued, craning her neck to look around the apartment, "You two live in one of the ritziest sections of the city. I'm starving. Where's the kitchen?"

Arella pointed to the left, not trusting herself with any words yet. She had always known that Slade wasn't exactly celibatebefore they got married, but this was a living, breathing _person _in front of her that she had no idea even existed. Arella walked into the kitchen to find Rose headfirst in their refrigerator.

"So anyway. Where's the old man's computer? I want to change all his passwords, just to piss him off a little."

"Rose, don't."

"What are _you _worried about? It's not like he'll do anything to _you."_

"Rose…"

"Okay, fine. Jesus _Christ _you're skinny."

"What?"

"_Seriously," _Rose continued, waving an entire ham sandwich in the air as she went off on her tangent, "You're eating peanut butter for lunch. Did you eat breakfast?"

"No…"

"Why not?"

Arella wasn't _about _to tell the teenager standing in front of her that her stomach closed up in a knot whenever she was anxious about something. And there was no way in Hades she would discuss she and Slade's marital problems with a girl who, before today, she hadn't even thought existed.

"I'm 19, by the way," Rose said casually, kicking the refrigerator shut, "Gives you something to think about."

It was going to be a long two weeks.

**Author's Note: Well, I hope you liked it. If you didn't, tell me what was wrong in a review. I also do requests now, since I'm really bored. So if you'd like to see Slade and Arella in a particular situation, just ask.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans. OR Slade._

"Of course it's not your fault. Don't be ridiculous. Just because your wife's feeling _sorry _for herself or something doesn't give her the right to go off like she's crazy."

The five other men at their table nodded in agreement and Slade sighed, looking at the hand of cards he had been dealt. Shitty luck, as usual. But he was dispensing marital advice on autopilot.

"So…you think she'll be…you know…over it by the time I get back?"

Raising an eyebrow at the hopeful red-haired man in front of him, Slade shook his head. "Tony" (if that _was _his real name) looked crestfallen.

"Just kiss ass when you get home. Buy her some…I don't know, _jewelry _or something. Women love that. And you might want to actually kiss her ass, too. That'll get you what you want."

The men chuckled quietly or sighed, depending on their particular experiences. Slade drained his wineglass and drummed his fingers on the table.

Slade was trying to put _that woman _out of his mind. And what better way than by shutting down his brain in the company of his almost-equals? The assembled men had aliases worldwide, and in their respective country each was a terror unto himself. But what the people in a particular region failed to realize was, there was _more _than one person like their own arch-villain. There were _more _"Slade's" out there. But Slade wasn't going to be the one to enlighten them.

"How much is this whole thing going to cost again?" Tony asked nervously, running a hand through his hair, cut short to suit their mercenary desert work.

"Nothing," Slade said flatly, and the others looked up at him in surprise.

"Usually accommodations such as these would cost you roughly 15 of what you'll earn over the three week period," he continued, setting down his cards and steepling his fingers, "But I called in a favor a Sheik owes me. He has decided to foot the bill. So we stay here for free."

"Thank _God," _a man named Ian sighed, "It's the bloody _Burj Al Arab_. Whose idea _was _it to meet in the most expensive fucking hotel in the world again?"

"Mine," Slade replied casually, "I had hoped that the Sheik would pay…but there's a Holiday Inn past the private drive and down the road, if you'd like to stay there instead."

"No, I'm fine here," Ian replied, his eyes following a pair of scantily-clad women as they walked across the restaurant, "And I'm _sure _that there's some good company to be had, _right_ Slade?"

"Not for me there isn't."

"Women are all _over you. _Even the waitress was getting an eyeful."

"It's the hair," Tony said gravely, "It _has _to be the hair."

"If I had half your luck, I'd use it," Ian continued, "Seriously."

"Or…"

"Oh, don't even _start," _Slade warned, watching the dawning light in the younger man's eyes. The others fell silent and looked straight at him.

"_Christ…" _he thought, right before the million-dollar question.

"You haven't _married again, _have you Slade?"

"Damn you to hell."

**Author's Note: If you read these, REVIEW THEM. Right now, I don't think I can continue…I mean, I don't think people are reading these…so I'd appreciate reviews if you read.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

"Look Rose, I don't exactly think that Slade is going to be _thrilled _at us buying all of…_this."_

Arella gestured around them, her arm encompassing the piles of clothes, shoes, and one eager saleswoman.

"Nonsense," Rose and "Sherry" asserted at the same time, which didn't do a thing for her confidence.

"Rose," Arella continued, lowering her voice and laying a hand on the girl's shoulder, "Slade and I aren't exactly…we're not _speaking _right now. So spending seven thousand dollars on new clothes isn't going to put him in a good mood."

Rose frowned and scratched the side of her head with her cell phone, finally giving her companion a small shrug.

"Well, then. We had better look at some other stuff if you want to piss him off well enough."

"No, Rose! That isn't what I—oh no," she murmured, watching as Sherry's smile broadened and she ran away to fetch more clothing.

"You have an _excellent _figure, Mrs. Wilson," Sherry oozed, holding up a red silk shirt to Arella, "And you'd be lovely in red as well…of course, you'll want to try this on before we add it to your bill, but I'm _sure _that you'll _love _it."

"Yes…I'll try it on in a moment but"—

"And we _do _have a stunning set of Chanel lingerie that I always use when I want to…shall we say "get back" at _my_ husband, if you know what I mean…"

Rose stuck a finger in her mouth and gagged. Arella's face burned.

"Despite the fact that I'm scarred for life now, she'll take it," Rose cut in grudgingly, "But not the shirt. Everything else, too."

Brown-haired Sherry was practically beaming as she ran out to swipe Arella's credit card.

"Rose. I don't want to antagonize your father. It's a wonder that _you _want to antagonize him. And besides. I don't need all this. I mean, I can barely pronounce half of the designer's names."

"What, like "Bebe"?" Rose snickered, walking around the carpeted room, "Besides. I'm sure what you did wasn't _that _bad. It sounds like Slade's used to having you there ready to apologize for _breathing _wrong."

"Well, it was that bad," Arella responded quietly, sliding down into a soft chair nearby and feeling every one of her thirty-five years, "I just…I miss being able to talk to him. Do you know what it's like having Slade horribly angry with you, Rose?"

Turning around, Rose wore a peculiar look on her face. Her slick black boots sank into the plush carpet.

"Yeah. I kind of _do, _Arella. And you beat yourself up for it and feel like a bad person and shit…but then you realize maybe, just _maybe, _the whole thing was Slade's fault to begin with. And you're just sort of…_there."_

The older woman looked down ashamedly and stroked her wedding ring. It occurred to her that Rose was, above all things, _right. _

And that scared Arella more than anything.

**Author's Note: Well? Did you like this one? Remember to review! (Tell me exactly what you liked/disliked/I need to re-write.)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-two**

_Disclaimer: Don't own Teen Titans._

"Still thinking about staying out here for another week? Sir?" The younger man asked Slade hesitantly.

He was curious about the soldier's situation. Hell, everyone was. The story of Slade's marriage had gotten distorted so much that some people swore Slade had slain a hundred men with his bare hands, simply because he was so angry at his wife. The young man fresh from Halliburton did not want to meet the same fate.

"I'm leaving. The rest of you can handle this and finish up on your own."

"I'll tell them to bring your bags to the jet."

"Thanks," Slade said curtly, sliding on a pair of sunglasses against the bright Arabian sun.

The wind toyed with his white hair for a moment and he sighed, some more of the after-battle adrenaline leeching out as he did so. Slade didn't want to be buzzed on it when he returned home. Even though he and his men had stayed at the world's most expensive hotel for a week, there was soreness in his muscles that came from sleeping on the ground in the desert for three nights, stalking terrorists.

"That paycheck had _better_ be in my account," the mercenary muttered under his breath, briefly touching the hilt of a knife that needed to be cleaned as he jogged to the Lear jet waiting on a thin line of tarmac.

"What _is_ it, Rose?" Slade asked as he answered the phone, an edge in his voice that came from both gritty sand and irritation.

"_It's Arella."_

His heart skipped a beat. His outer body kept climbing the stairs up to the plane.

"Well? Has she been kidnapped or injured? Because that is _not _conducive to your health, you know. Think it through before you tell me anything."

"_No Slade, it's __you. __She's worried about you—says you've been gone a week longer than you told her you would be. Arella practically forced me to call you."_

"I'm _alive," _he said condescendingly, "Tell her she should know that by now. I told her that I always win, and it's still true. Don't let her "force" you to do anything ever again, Rose. That's a little weak of you, and it would be of _me _if I let that happen to myself as well. Goodbye."

Slade closed his eyes to relax on the private jet.

Arella turned red and Rose shut down the speaker phone.

"Your father is—a _horrible, _horrible person," Arella said angrily, "You'd think he'd be over this by now."

"No offense, but I don't even know what you two are fighting about," Rose replied, propping her feet on the glass table and grabbing a handful of popcorn out of her bowl, "Besides. I'm not the best person to bitch to, you know."

"I mean, I can't even stand swearing and he makes me want to scream every profane thing in the dictionary!" She huffed, yanking her hair back in a ponytail and walking around the living room to straighten it up, "Rose, I understand that he's your father and you know him, but…I just don't know about his sanity anymore. And the way he just _won't _let this go. I make one mistake and…it's like he can't _ever _even forgive me for it. He said he did, but…"

Arella tilted her head back to stop the hot smarting behind her eyes. She _wasn't _going to cry. It wasn't worth it, after all, this whole situation. But the whole thing was tearing her up on the inside, how Slade couldn't even stand to look at her anymore. They needed to talk about it and it was time they _both _learned that having sex all day wasn't going to cure their marital problems.

"Uh…Arella? Earth to ARELLA WILSON."

"Sorry Rose," she said quickly, shaking her head, "I spaced for a minute."

"A minute? You've been broody all day. Aren't you pacifists supposed to be all tranquil and calm and "Use the force Luke" and everything?"

"I used to be," she sighed, "I used to be that way. But living with Slade…I don't know. It's just different. I don't really know what I believe anymore. Certainly pacifism can't solve my problems now."

"Just as I suspected all along," she replied, doing a flip over the couch while holding her popcorn bowl.

"What?"

"My father," Rose said dramatically, whimsically balancing the bowl on her head, "Is an _asshole."_

"Rose," Arella said flatly, "You know I don't like swearing in here."

"Yeah, but doesn't Slade…"

She shook her head.

"Not in this house, he doesn't. I've got him pretty well-trained."

"But he said"—

"I don't really care _what _he said. And Rose, it's late. I'm going to bed, and you should do the same."

"Arella, it's only eleven. I'll be up for awhile, watching TV."

"Goodnight then," she murmured, walking into her room and flicking on the lamp.

The entire _room _seemed empty without Slade there. Arella didn't feel right sleeping even thought it had been almost three weeks since she'd seen him last. She settled down under the covers to try and fall asleep, curling herself into a ball.

On his side of the bed, of course.

"Oh, _shit," _Slade muttered, slamming a hand on his laptop, "Goddamn battery."

The mercenary, having been around other soldiers for too long, was starting to pick up a few choice words and insert them into his own speech. He knew how to cleanly eradicate that vocabulary though. But for the present, swearing at his dead laptop suited him just fine.

"Pilot, how long until we land?" Slade asked, pushing the intercom button on the side of the seat.

"Ten minutes and we're inside the city."

"Good."

He closed his eyes. There was _so much _that still needed to be done at this point. Bills to pay, he had to get his car from the airport, the apartment was probably a wreck since Rose and "that woman" had been living there alone, and God only knew what food would be left in the refrigerator. Probably half an apple and leftover Chinese from that place his wife _loved _so much.

But the very first thing Slade was going to do was take a long, hot _shower._

_And it was a very pleasant dream indeed, but suddenly there was a light brush against her forehead, and an "I'm home, darling…" whispered in her ear that she probably imagined and—_

Arella woke up slowly and heard the shower from her bathroom running. But that was _impossible_, she pondered, falling back against the pillows and reaching a hand up to pat down her hair. A lamp was on and a gentle golden glow bathed the room.

"_Slade's home," _Arella thought wildly, burrowing her face in the pillow to fake being asleep.

She must have dozed off again because the next time she opened her eyes, Slade was standing with his back to her, wearing nothing but a loose towel around his waist. He stood with his arms folded. Water droplets clung to Slade's skin, which was so much more _tan _that when he left.

But what bothered Arella was the fresh pink scar that ran diagonally down his back. It could have been from a sword, a whip, _anything. _

"Go back to sleep, Arella," he said flatly, not turning around to look at her, "It's four a.m."

"Are you coming to bed?"

"I'm hungry."

"Oh…alright," she replied.

Arella slowly sat up and shook her head to clear the cobwebs from her brain.

"You're not _sick, _are you?" She asked, using it as an excuse to walk over to him and lay a hand on his arm.

He quickly pulled away from the touch and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Sunburn."

"I…understand. Do you want me to fix you something to eat?"

"I'll get it myself. Just go to bed."

"Don't you think you should get some rest before"—

"I'm sure," he said, turning to face her, "That I'll get _plenty _of rest on the couch."

She didn't win the staring contest and dropped her eyes before he did. Silence hung heavily in the air as Slade started to walk out. He paused for a moment.

"And Arella?"

"Y-yes?"

"I'm taking my pillow."

**Author's Note: Thanks to all my faithful reviewers who constantly want me to make long chapters, I have FINALLY made one. Tell me what you thought!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans._

"Next time, _you'll _be the one sleeping on the couch, Arella," Slade hissed, sitting up in the dark and pounding his cell phone to shut the alarm off.

He rubbed a crick in his neck and rotated it while the other hand came up to flatten his hair. Slade knew it probably looked like he stuck his fingers in a socket. Charming. That was the absolute _last _time he was sleeping anywhere but his own bed when he was in _his _apartment. Arella was smaller than he was, wasn't she? So _she _could deal with sprawling out on a sofa for the night. _Her _feet probably wouldn't hang uncomfortably off the edge.

Slade looked around at the living room. At six a.m. the room was dark except for a sliver of sunlight that peeked through the drawn curtains. He stared blankly at them for a long time.

"_I'll be fine. Really, Slade," she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, "Don't worry about me; I'll just be here all day. Go! You have errands to run. I have a lot to do anyway."_

"_Arella," he replied after she kissed him, "Understand that I have quite a few enemies…they wouldn't hesitate to hurt you."_

_She wrapped her legs around his waist and Slade supported her easily with one arm._

"_Slade, hardly anyone knows we're even __married," __she responded gently, leaning her forehead against his, "Besides. You can't just stay in here all the time, and neither can I. I'll be careful when you have to leave sometimes. I promise. Don't you trust me?"_

"_Of course I trust you," he said, and Arella's eyes sparkled happily when she hugged him again._

The snooze alarm on Slade's phone sounded and he shook himself, clicking it off absentmindedly. He was still exhausted from the profitable little "trip" he had taken to the Middle East. But the tidy paycheck in his bank account would definitely make up for it.

The mercenary slowly stood and yanked on the white t-shirt he had discarded the night before, picking up his laptop off the table before settling into the leather chair directly across from the couch. With a few rapid-fire codes and calculations, Slade had access to his main Swiss Bank Account. Its balance was now a happy $15.2 million, up $200,000 from the Mid-East operation.

Arella should be pleased—or at least she _would have been, _if he wasn't too angry to bother sharing the details of his trip. Besides. Letting his wife know that sometimes he took on missions that directly aided the U.S. wasn't exactly his cup of tea. Of _course _it wasn't about honor or protecting innocents or anything of the like. It was about the money. It was _always _about the money.

"_Oh…Slade. My goodness. Slade…. What happened? How did you get in here?" Arella gasped, holding a hand over her nose to cover the stench._

_He stood in the hallway breathing heavily and covered in blood—most of it was not his own. Sirens were still wailing throughout the city. Slade clenched a staff in one hand and gestured toward the living room with the other._

"_Close—the window," he said finally, "And draw the curtains. Hurry."_

_She gave him a last glance and ran to do what he asked. Looking in the hall mirror, Slade saw what made his wife so frightened: he still wore his mask. Blood was smeared on the copper side and his eye was narrowed to a slit. He yanked it off and discovered that he was bleeding from a cut on his forehead._

_It was worth it. God, it was worth it. His adrenaline was through the roof. Seven cops were dead and bleeding on the street, right after he had warned them that they were going to die if they pursued him._

"_What happened to you?" Arella asked again, running in the room and stopping just short of throwing herself at him, "Are you alright? Are you going to die this time?"_

"_I'm fine," he said, turning away before she saw his satisfied smile, "Don't worry about it…just another job."_

_She stopped asking after that._

"Are you just going to stand there all day?" He asked, not inclining his head a single inch.

This practice usually intimidated most people, but Arella just sighed. Her soft footfalls came to a rest just behind him.

"I know you paid Rose to look after me," Arella said quietly, her voice husky.

Slade hoped she'd been crying. Either way, he was going to kill Rose.

"She didn't say anything to me, but…I just know."

_Damn it._

"And…"

She laid a hand on his shoulder, lightly at first, but her grip tightened slightly. Arella's nails put a faint pressure on his skin through the cotton shirt.

"I don't know what you want from me, Slade," Arella said, squeezing his shoulder.

Slade heard her voice break.

"I don't know what to do…I can't apologize anymore…I can't make you forgive me, you won't even _talk _to me, all because I just wanted to see my _daughter. _Surely you can underst"—

"That is _not _it and don't you _dare _say that it is," he snapped, jerking away from her and standing up abruptly, even though it was way too early for an argument like this one. He towered five inches above her and Arella backed up quickly. Dried tear-tracks were on her face, but she wasn't crying at the moment.

"Your _problem, _Madame, is that you put _both _of us in danger, going about and just trying to _contact _Raven, while she was with the _Titans _no less. Do you even realize what would have happened if Richard or Garfield Logan, for God's sake, had—Robin and Beast Boy. Those were their real names—found out that we _live here? _Do you realize how far we'd have to go, I couldn't show my face in public again…and I trusted you. I trusted you to stay quiet for both of us. And you didn't. What else can't I trust you with, hm?"

"_I trusted you, Slade! We were supposed to tell each other everything!" She screamed, her hair working its way out of its band, "And you go off and—and you do this! How could you? How could you lead this stupid double life and not even bother to tell me that you were putting all of us in this kind of danger!?"_

_He ran a hand through his short blonde hair, a nervous habit from his youth._

"_I need to do this. I've changed, you know that. And you didn't expect me to just give up the information, just like that, did you? Listen to me—"_

"_Listen to you?! I don't want to speak to or hear you again!"_

_Her green eyes flashed violently and she circled around the kitchen table, trying to get away from him. He could see her muscles, tense and ready for an actual physical fight. She was going to fight him, if she had to. He could have never imagined something like this, not even in a nightmare._

"_Addie"—_

"_I trusted you, goddammit," she hissed, pointing an accusing finger in his face, "I trusted you with our child's __life__—and I swear to God, I'll never make that mistake again."_

"I have to leave. _Now._"

"_What?" _

He turned coldly away from her shocked expression.

"I'll be back by nightfall—don't even think of following me. I'll know."

He walked out the door. She didn't follow him.

**Author's Note: REVIEW! Or Slade will damn you to hell. But seriously, I want to know what you think.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans._

_What would have happened if Arella was a stronger person?_

The question had never haunted Slade's wife more than it did at that moment, staring at the door he had just walked out of, maybe for good. Would he really leave her? No, of course he wouldn't, not without his precious laptop and his designer suits and his papers—

"Stop it," she scolded herself in an angry whisper, "Don't think that way. _He _certainly doesn't."

Or rather, _didn't. _These days, it was hard for Arella to even _begin _to fathom what her husband was thinking. She could count on one hand the times he had thought to explain it to her, the entire time they were married, which would be two years very, very soon.

It wasn't as if she was stupid—in fact, she was far from it. And it was the ultimate compliment Slade had paid her, for with his marriage proposal came an unspoken approval of her intelligence.

"_This is why I don't like people," he sighed, shaking his head at the news, turning off the t.v., and tossing the remote on the chair to his right, "You'll find that about ninety percent of them are completely and inescapably ignorant."_

_Arella frowned a bit and glanced over at him. She always sat on his left. It helped her to judge his expression more than when she had to look at the soulless black cloth that covered where his right eye should have been._

"_Most of us aren't on your plane of intelligence, Slade," she responded softly, "I think you'll be hard-pressed to find someone who is."_

_The urge to run her fingers through his silky hair was mortifying. He turned slightly to look at her._

"_You're right," he said simply, "But there are several kinds of intelligence. Pity that there are so many people without any kind, it seems."_

"_That's why I try not to think highly of myself," she responded, turning to face him._

_At once Arella was thankful for the three feet of space between them on the couch._

"_Why?" He asked, arching an eyebrow._

"_Because it saves me the trouble of competing with people like you."_

_He gave her a rare, slight smile._

"_You're not as unintelligent as you would have me believe."_

Arella folded her arms and shivered, shifting from foot to foot before shuffling to the long mirror in the hallway. A train wreck stared back at her. She had dark circles under her dull, tired eyes. Arella's black hair was messy and unkempt, and hung limply past her shoulders. The _only _thing she had going for her at that moment was her body.

She would be the first one to admit that she looked better after Rose forced her to put on a couple of pounds. And if Slade wasn't so angry with Arella, he probably would have noticed that her ribs didn't jut out quite so much anymore, and she had gained weight in certain "places" that he, of all people, should have appreciated. But at the moment, there was nothing else that could be done aside from taking a long, hot shower. "Back by nightfall," indeed.

At this point, Arella would consider herself lucky if he came back at all.

"_I'll be back before you go to sleep," he whispered gently against her hair, tickling Arella's skin with his warm breath, "Don't worry. It's not an emergency. I just have to take care of something."_

_Slade kissed her cheek and she squeezed her eyes shut, still clinging childishly to his arm as he made an attempt to extricate himself out of the bed._

"_Arella, I __do __have to leave now," Slade said again, a slight firmness in his tone._

_They had been married a week and he had barely left the house for __anything, __so she didn't want him leaving just then. Or ever._

"_Goodbye," she'd whispered, but climbed out of bed and wrapped the sheet around herself to sadly watch Slade leave._

_He doubled back and kissed her until her knees trembled in response, and was back before dark fell._

Arella spent the rest of the day curled on a sofa, flipping through channels as she huddled under a blanket. If she were a stronger person, she might be inspired to fight back. But pacifism was so ingrained in her blood that she didn't even _want _to. She just wanted them both to settle the issue once and for all and be done with it. How had they settled things before?

"_Slade?" Arella asked groggily, sitting up as his arm wrapped around her._

_He had a tranquil, almost intoxicated look on his face, as if he had forgotten that she was rather angry with him._

"_Yes?"_

"_Don't we need to talk ab"-_

"_No, we don't," he sighed, stroking her hair, "I don't think there's anything else to talk about, do you?"_

_It was extremely hard for her to be angry with him when he wasn't wearing a shirt. Or anything else._

"_No," she responded, snuggling closer and tucking her head under his chin._

He wouldn't be back by nightfall. She sighed and looked at the clock: 5:00p.m. It would be dark in a scant hour, and Slade was probably off messing around in the city, wreaking havoc upon whatever innocent—

"No. Stop thinking like that," she said aloud, shaking herself and walking about the room, "You're being ridiculous."

Her voice sounded hollow in the empty apartment and Arella frowned. She looked at her watch and started when she saw the date: October 31st. Halloween.

"_The people of Earth…and their pagan holidays," the older woman sighed, shaking her regal head slightly._

_The light glinted off the sapphire on her forehead._

"_Which are you referring to, Teacher?" Arella asked softly, smoothing the hem of her white robe so that it fanned out across her feet._

"_Halloween," Azar replied bitterly, "Today the people of Earth are simply begging for all manner of spirits to invade their lives and cause chaos."_

"_I had never realized it."_

"_Do not trouble yourself, child. You are not on Earth anymore."_

_Azar closed her eyes and sat in the lotus position to meditate. Arella did the same._

"_It's going to be a long night,"_ she said to herself, drawing up the wooden blinds to look at the city.

The sun had just begun to sink.

**Author's Note: Review.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or Slade._

It was cold that evening, and the wind whistling through Slade's long black coat was a well-deserved punishment. He stood rigidly, with his hands in the pockets of his coat and looked down until the cool air blurred the vision in his good eye. The grass was an eerie shade of green against the darkening sky and the only sound was the howling wind as the mercenary shifted slightly on his feet.

Slade knew every inch of that gravestone by then, from the smooth grey edges to the slicker surface, with flecks of stone that winked in the light if he came in the morning and gleamed crimson if he visited at sunset. The hardest part to look at was the name: _Adeline K. Wilson _engraved in a plain Arial script.

He had come with a single red rose, but upon reaching the site found a white lily lying at the headstone. It had taken several moments before Slade trusted himself to look _up _at the person who had given it.

"Still blame yourself?" He asked, and a pair of green eyes looked levelly back at him.

They were accustomed to silence by then. Among other people it would have appeared rude—but these two were no ordinary people.

"I do not know."

He shook his head and the wind coldly ruffled his hair along with hers.

"It's not your fault," Slade said flatly, his tone admitting that he would give no more than that, "It was a mercy shot."

"You have moved on?"

"Yes," he said finally, his thoughts flickering briefly to Arella and back again, "I think it's time for us both to move on."

"Moving on does not mean that you have to forget."

He didn't do anything but wordlessly lay the rose on her grave.

"Sometimes it's better to forget," the mercenary responded, his mouth tightening.

_Blood everywhere…so much blood…__no one__ could lose that amount and live…and she was in so much pain, and crazy besides…_

"But you cannot"—

"Go home Starfire," Slade sighed.

She gave him a sad look and continued to hover in the air. The sadness was for his wife—there was no question about that. Starfire would have to live with the fact that she had taken Addie's life for the rest of _hers. _

She would also live with the fact that she had seen his face and had done nothing.

**Author's Note: Two for one tonight! Sorry the Halloween thing is a bit late.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty Five**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans._

Arella stared at the wall of the shower as hot water pounded down on her back. She couldn't see anything but the blurry white surface of the marble, beaded over with dampness. But the former priestess wasn't really looking at anything at all.

It had been two days since Slade had come home.

In the meantime Arella had busied herself with cooking, cleaning, and sucking back espresso at the recently-opened coffee shop (members only) that had opened in the lobby of their ultra-exclusive apartment building.

She really hadn't given much thought to the section of town they lived in. But with Slade being gone, Arella was starting to notice things like security cameras, plainclothes policemen, and the large number of well-dressed people that frequented their corner of the city.

Yes, her husband had chosen well: Many of the wealthy didn't want to be noticed or photographed, choosing instead to retreat to places such as these where they could lay low.

Which led to another question: Just how much money did Slade have?

And what else could he possibly be keeping from her?

She pounded one thin hand on the wall of the shower. The water had started getting cold so she yanked the knob even farther to the left, biting her lip to keep back a sob. Slade _never _told her anything. And weren't married couples supposed to talk to each other, for Azar's sake? Granted, their situation was never _normal, _exactly, but…still. She had never been married before. Arella had absolutely _no _experience before he came along—in more ways than one.

What if he didn't love her after all?

The question made her stomach turn over in knots.

"No. Don't even _think _like that," Arella scolded herself, turning off the shower and slicking her hair back, "You're wrong. That's WRONG. He does love you. He _has _to."

Only her husband could get away with doing the things he did. Although the time had come when she wasn't so tolerant of his going away for weeks on end, (although the longest time Slade had been gone was three weeks) mysteriously disappearing, and stumbling home at all hours of the night. She was starting to get paranoid.

"_I'll talk to him later," _Arella decided, _"When he's cooled off from being angry with me."_

She reached outside the shower and pulled in the white towel that hung on a hook nearby. Wrapping it snugly around her body, Arella stepped tentatively outside and placed one foot on the rug. The steaming hot shower she had taken had fogged up the mirror completely, and the door was—

The door was _open. _

A hand spun her around and the next thing she knew, Arella was being crushed against—

"_Slade," _she gasped, kissing him harder than he kissed her, "You're home."

"Yes," he replied, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting Arella off the floor.

Running her hands through his hair, Arella felt a rush of happiness that had nothing to do with the way Slade had started breathing against her neck. He was home, and he had obviously forgiven her.

"I missed you," she murmured, kissing Slade's temple just above his right eye.

His _right _eye?

"Dear Azar!"

Arella shot out of his arms and covered her mouth with her hand. Slade looked confidently back at her, folding his arms. Two identical blue eyes searched her face.

"Oh, Slade, _what happened?"_

"It was time for me to do something," he said, shrugging as if he had decided to have Chinese food instead of Italian for dinner.

"It looks _perfect, _Slade, may I…"

She trailed off and smoothed her thumb along his cheek. His right eye watched her just as steadily as the left one did, and was the exact same heartbreaking shade of blue.

"What do you think, Arella?"

"Wow," was all she could manage.

Even before, Slade had always been _great _to look at. On the other hand, he was completely…different. She couldn't stop _staring _at him, touching his face, looking at the dizzying symmetry that Arella had taken for granted on other people's faces her whole life.

"You look good," Slade murmured, his voice muffled against her neck as he pulled her to him, "Really good."

"_Slade," _Arella replied, blushing as his hands crept lower and threatened to completely rip off the towel she was wearing.

"_I want you," _her husband breathed into her ear, "Why don't you take that towel off so we can"—

_Riiiing._

"What the"—

Slade swore under his breath and answered the phone. Arella sighed and moved away from him, but he pulled her back to him with a "You're not going anywhere" look.

"Yes, but—NO, not right now. I know, we have a deal. Don't bother me about—_yes_, I realize the terms. Right now isn't the best time."

Arella frowned as a faint female voice kept protesting over the phone.

"It hasn't even been—tomorrow. Alright? I promise. Tomorrow. Let me have tonight."

"Who was _that_?" Arella asked crossly, "It sounded like"—

"The doctor. She was a bit impatient to receive her money, that's all."

"Alright," Arella replied, "Just let me get dressed"—

"You'll do no such thing," Slade replied, picking her up easily with one arm so that they were at eye level.

It was a game they had been playing ever since they got married: Arella would pretend to be disinterested or clueless as to what he wanted, and Slade would pull her back; take care of her, or complain about how high-maintenance she was.

But it really wasn't Arella's fault that she had an entire safe filled with jewelry.

"Slade," she asked him later, about to drift off to sleep, "You don't _really _think I'm one of those…horrid high-maintenance women, do you?"

Slade turned over and she shivered as he breathed against her neck, wrapping an arm snugly about her waist.

"_Slade."_

"Arella," he replied tiredly, "If you really want an answer to your question, don't ask me right after we've had sex."

He was asleep before Arella could argue otherwise.


End file.
